


The King Under the Mountain

by raiyana



Series: The Dwelf series [17]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Baby Durins, Family Fluff, Gen, Inspired by Art, Pre-Smaug, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 04:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: Thrór knew he would be an indulgent grandfather the very first time he saw the small pebble called Thorin.





	The King Under the Mountain

Inspired by 

created by [上野(束）](https://twitter.com/ueno_f_kimico)

 

“Sigin’ada!” the little boy yelled, running along the pathway.

“Thorin!” the finely dressed dwarrowdam running after him called. “Come back here! It’s not safe to run in here!” she cried.

“And here’s my wee lad!” The King boomed from his throne as the nobles swiftly moved out of the way. The little boy laughed loudly, completely ignoring his nanny.

“Sigin’ada!” he yelled again, running up the small stairs. The King snapped him up, setting the little princeling on his lap.

“You know better than to run in here, Thorin,” he frowned.

“I’m sorry, Uzbad,” the dwarrowdam panted. “He just ran off!” She scowled at the small boy, who glared back.

“You’re mean!” he cried, “I want Amad!” Snuggling into Thrór’s greying beard for safety, the small Prince under the Mountain kept glaring at the dwarrowdam.

“Now, Thorin, you know your amad is in the Iron Hills with your adad,” Thrór rumbled gently, stroking the small back. “She’ll be back in a few weeks, raklûn, I promise. Lady Nessa is supposed to look after you until your parents come back.”

“Don’t want Nessa,” Thorin grumbled, hiding in the big beard. “Nessa doesn’t do the voices right! No wanna nap.” Thrór laughed.

“A grave crime, indeed,” he chuckled. Thorin nodded solemnly. “Well, if you promise not to run off tomorrow, I will read you a story when I’m done here, raklûn.” Thrór said. Thorin nodded thoughtfully.

“Can I stay with you?” he countered. Thrór rumbled a fond laugh.

“It will be boring for you, Thorin,” he tried, but the little boy just shook his head.

“Wanna stay, sig’ada,” he claimed loudly, snuggling into Thrór’s warm beard. The King chuckled, hugging his small grandson.

“Then you may stay, raklûn,” he promised. Thorin beamed. “Lady Nessa, you are dismissed for the evening. Thorin will see you tomorrow, after morning meal.” Thorin glowered smugly at her. The Lady bowed.

“Yes, Uzbad,” she murmured, turning around and leaving the throne room at a quick clip, her back ramrod straight. Thorin snuggled into the King’s hold with a satisfied smile.

“Sigin’ada” he asked, once the current petitioner had bowed to his king, leaving a break before the next one would be showed in. “Is my beard going to be this big?”

“Your beard is going to be even longer, Thorin,” Thrór rumbled, tickling his still-bare chin.

“Longer than Old Nan’s?” Thorin wondered. Thrór chuckled.

“Well, I don’t know if you’d want a beard as long as Old Nan’s,” he mused, “he usually trips on his going up the stairs.”

“I wouldn’t trip!” Thorin claimed, affronted by the suggestion.

“Oh, you wouldn’t, eh?” Thrór teased, tickling Thorin’s small sides. The boy giggled, wiggling to get away from the tickling fingers.

“Nooo,” he giggled.

“Well, I suppose we shall see, one day, raklûn,” Thrór replied with a fond smile, waving for the guard to let in his next case.

“Yes, Sigin’ada,” the little dwarfling mumbled, snuggling against Thrór with a sleepy murmur.

Stroking the sleeping dwarfling’s dark hair, the King of Durin’s Folk continued his day of court cases with a soft smile on his face.


End file.
